


Finishing

by grav_ity



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grav_ity/pseuds/grav_ity
Summary: or, the one where Alistair is very determined





	Finishing

Alistair felt his bones turn to water. He caught himself on his elbows before he could crush Kentha underneath him, and pressed his forehead to hers while he fought to catch his breath. Maker, he was never going to get tired of this, of her body and the way she moved with him and the way she smiled and gasped and clung to his shoulders. He slid sideways to relieve her of his weight, and trailed a hand across her waist. He could never get enough of her skin, and he was trying not to let his own afterglow thwart him into complacency.

Kentha caught his wandering hand and folded it against her heart. She curled into him, shifting away from his knee when he would have put it between hers. Alistair was new at this, but he was not stupid, and he wasn’t going to push something she didn’t want. He was going to ask her why she didn’t want it, though. His mouth getting him into trouble was nothing new.

“I need to ask you something,” he said. Uncharacteristic bluntness was somehow easier when they were both naked in his bedroll.

She hummed against his chest, but he knew she was paying attention. She just enjoyed the warmth.

“I know we’ve only been at this for a short time,” he said. “But I want you to like it. I want you to tell me if there’s something I can do to make it better.”

Kentha looked up at him. The tips of her ears were pink, and she had a shy smile instead of the joyous one from earlier. He would take all of her smiles, every day, and was reveling in the fact that now he got to learn how to tell them apart.

“Are you missing something?” she said.

“Maker, no,” Alistair said. He kissed her lightly on the mouth and then the end of her nose, which always made her giggle. “But I’ve noticed that you don’t, um, you don’t finish.”

Now she turned strawberry-red, and he could imagine his colouring was similar.

“My-my mother said that it takes time, for a woman,” Kentha said. “We have to learn each other, and then it will happen. I really don’t mind the practicing.”

“Neither do I,” Alistair said. “But I want you to feel what I do. I want to be the one that makes you.”

A deep shudder ran through her, and she nestled into him. He freed his hands and wrapped his arms around her. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with the conversation, but it was clear Kentha wanted to sleep, so he let it go. As he drifted off, however, he started to put together a plan.

++

Alistair deposited an armload of firewood next to the pile. He picked up the shortbow they used for hunting, and looked at Zevran.

“I saw signs of a buck,” he said, by way of explanation. “Would you like to come and get it with me?”

Zevran was a good tracker, even if throwing knives wasn’t exactly the best way to catch dinner. Still, the elf looked bored at the idea of another day in camp spent sharpening things and avoiding Wynne if she got into a brewing mood, and agreed gamely enough. There actually _was_ a buck. Alistair had seen fresh antler marks and scat, and there was a sheltered stream nearby. That made him feel a bit better about the deer not being his only motive.

They tracked the animal into the forest. Usually, Alistair would have relaxed at this point. Hunting for food was a great deal more pleasant work than hunting darkspawn, and it was the kind of good work Alistair enjoyed, where skill and luck found a decent balance. The deer didn’t care who your father was, after all. Today, however, he was a little bit distracted.

“There is an old Antivan proverb,” Zevran said, the fourth or fifth time Alistair stepped on a branch, “he who goes into the forest and hunts two, returns with no quarry.”

Alistair gave him a hard look. Zevran smiled.

“There is no proverb,” he admitted. “But you, my friend, are busy somewhere else.”

Alistair rubbed his forehead with his free hand.

“There is a buck, and we should catch it,” he said. “But there’s another thing I was hoping to talk to you about. In private.”

Zevran smiled delightedly, and sat gracefully down in the brush. Alistair followed suit, rather more heavily, and propped the shortbow on his knee.

“Now tell me,” Zevran said. “And be blunt. No one but me will hear you and it will save time.”

“All right,” Alistair said. He took a breath to give him time to collect his thoughts, and then plunged in. “We’ve only had sex a few times, and she swears it’s fine, but Kentha doesn’t orgasm. She said it’s just a matter of practice, but I—”

His courage failed him and his voice dried up. He looked helplessly at Zevran, who was nodding.

“You want better than fine,” Zevran said.

“I want better than fine for _her_ ,” Alistair clarified.

Somehow, Zevran’s smile got even wider.

“My Grey Warden,” he said, “you are about to turn so pink. But I will tell you what you need to know.”

++

“I want to try something,” Alistair said, hours later when the buck was caught, roasted and eaten for dinner or packed away in one of Wynne’s food canisters, and everyone had gone to bed. 

Zevran was on watch, but Kentha had lingered by the fire, and for a few heart-stopping moments, Alistair had wondered if she’d seek her own bed tonight instead of his. When she arrived, already dressed for sleep and with her hair in a soft braid over one shoulder, Alistair had taken a deep breath and pulled her down into his lap.

“What is it?” Kentha asked. She was already grinning, just from being close to him, and Maker, if that didn’t make him feel ten feet tall.

“I can try to stumble through it,” Alistair said. “Because we both know how good I am at explaining this sort of thing.”

She laughed, and pressed a kiss against his neck. He caught her hands before she could get him into trouble.

“Or I could start,” he continued, “and if you want me to stop, just say so.”

She considered it for only a moment, and then nodded. He pulled her shirt over her head, and lay her down on his pillow. None of this was new. In fact, he was getting pretty good at it, he thought. He could have her panting for breath in moments, and then, when she told him she was ready, he could never refuse her. But tonight, he would. Tonight, he was trying to get a very specific result.

He bent over her and kissed her with great deliberation. She sighed against his mouth, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair. He fit the curve of her breast against his palm and she arched towards the touch. His other hand slid down to work at the laces on her trousers. She’d tied a simple knot, thankfully, and raised her hips to help him push them off. He rocked his hips into her and felt her smile.

Alistair pulled away, and Kentha, guessing at what was coming next, plucked at his shirt. He kissed her once, quickly, and then slid out of her grasp without letting her strip him. He traced a line down her sternum with his tongue, and knelt between her thighs, spreading her legs.

“Alistair,” she said, more air than sound, and his mouth reached the softness of her belly.

His fingers crept up the inside of her legs. This, too, was not new. Alistair had lacked experience when they started, but the six months he’d spent with the Grey Wardens filled a lot of the gaps left in his Chantry education, at least theoretically. He’d had known enough to touch—until he found the places that made Kentha writhe and beg him to fuck her.

He shifted backwards, giving himself space to work, and Kentha raised herself up on her elbows. She didn’t stop him, but she definitely looked curious. Alistair lowered himself a bit, locked eyes with her, and licked his lips. Kentha’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She swallowed, shuddering all the way down to her toes. And nodded.

His first taste of her was clumsy, much as his first touch had been. But Alistair was more confident now, less afraid of misstep and more willing to make a fool of himself in the name of pleasing her. He didn’t think he would be a fool tonight.

Kentha moaned, and reached for him. Her hands could barely reach his neck and shoulders, but he could feel her touch the corded muscles there. Then, he took her clit in his mouth and sucked, and she fell back onto the pillow with a whimper. He did it again, and her hips bucked, her knees tightening around his head. He palmed one hand across her belly to hold her still, and, without easing the pressure of his mouth, pushed one finger inside of her.

“Alistair, I—” she said between gasps. “Alistair, please.”

This is where he usually gave in, that breathy ‘please’ and his want for the heat of her. Instead, he added a second finger. This was further than he had ever pushed her before, and still she fought to hold together for him. He crooked his fingers and she keened, a sharp sound muffled too soon by her hand.

He looked up at her. Kentha was arched back into the pillow, one hand in her mouth and the other squeezing the life out of his blanket. He couldn’t help the smile that split his face.

“Come for me, love,” he said. His voice was soft against her thigh and his fingers were still drawing the most exquisite sounds from her, but he could tell she heard. “I want to see.”

He put his mouth back to better use, and she broke under his touch. Her body froze for a moment, and then it was though a string had snapped. She writhed, speaking nonsense to him while he worked every last bit of pleasure from her. Her hands closed in his hair and pulled him up hard, and he finally let her. He didn’t even have time to wipe his mouth before she crashed her lips on his. She bypassed his shirt, going straight for the laces on his trews.

“Maker,” she said as he slid into her. Then something beyond beautiful coalesced in her face, and she smiled. “Hard, Alistair.”

There was another thing he meant to do with his hand and her clit while they were fucking, but he forgot it entirely the moment she locked her ankles around his waist. It did not seem that she minded.

++

Alistair got her the water skin, in case her throat was hoarse, and discreetly checked her knuckles to make sure she hadn’t punched the ground too hard, or something. His left knee was bruised, probably a rock, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. She took the cloth he gave her and cleaned up a bit before settling into his arms. He was, somehow, still wearing his shirt, but they were both too pleasantly strung out to do anything about it.

“So,” Kentha said. “You had a good hunt today, then?”

Alistair would have choked, except he was so damn pleased with himself he didn’t care who knew it.

“I did,” he said.

“When I said I didn’t mind practicing, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Kentha said. “But I suppose it’s faster that way.”

“I don’t intend to make a habit of it,” Alistair said. “There’s only so much blackmail material I’m willing to hand over. Besides, I think we can take the next few steps ourselves, yes?”

“In the morning,” Kentha said. “Maybe. I’m, um, a little over-sensitive right now.”

Alistair could not help feeling smug at that. Kentha kissed his jaw and tucked herself against him. He arranged the blanket over them.

“Thank you, though,” Kentha said. Her voice was quiet against his shoulder. “I didn’t really understand what you meant, and you went out of your way to show me anyway. I…I know it was important to you, but it felt so good, Alistair.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “And glad to repeat it, later on.”

She giggled, a sound he would never tire of, and he lay awake listening to the sound of her breathing as it evened out, before he followed her into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favourite tropes (both the obvious title AND the actual, uh, plot point), and I think this is the first time I've ever written it! Two decades and I'm still growing. ;)


End file.
